Chapter 24
Keira regained consciousness slowly, like water dripping into a well filled with sand. Her head was a blossoming ache of anguish, and her vision was still blurry. Little by little, she was starting to remember what had happened.
The chamber. The stranger. The rag over my mouth. Complete darkness.
She gasped silently, inhaling as much of the clean air around her as possible. She looked around, blinking heavily, trying to make out the silhouettes around her.
Soon enough, she realized that she was in the middle of a moonlit clearing, in a situation that sent shivers down her spine. She looked down, only to see that the man who had taken her from the comfort and safety of Raphael’s home was now kneeling before her.
“What are you doing!?” she exclaimed as loudly as she could, but her throat was too dry to make a noise more audible than a kittenish whisper.
The man didn’t react. He continued with whatever it was he was doing. When she tried to move her hands, she realized the man had bound her to a tree behind her, and he was now just getting finished with tying up her feet.
“Unhand me this instant!” she tried again, but to no avail. She doubted the man even heard her.
Her senses were heightened. The leaves rustled gently in the breeze, a stark juxtaposition to the tension that permeated the atmosphere. The night air was cool against her skin, and she could hear the distant sounds of nature, oblivious to her plight.
The man stood up, looking down at her feet. Then, he walked behind her to double-check the knots that were keeping her hands bound. He had rendered her completely immobile.
Her breaths came in anxious whispers as she attempted to assess her surroundings, her eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the sense of vulnerability in this remote clearing was overwhelming.
Her captor, a shadowy figure, loomed nearby. His intentions remained unknown, and Keira’s anxiety deepened as she wondered what fate awaited her in this desolate place.
At that moment, she remembered that her captor had mentioned the Laird, and how he should not have chosen someone like her. She doubted that this man could be reasoned with, but perhaps she could get him to tell her why he had kidnapped her, and why she was standing here now, bound to a tree.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded to know, almost as if some revelation might bring her comfort in this dark moment.
Her captor ignored her. He looked around, waiting. She knew that he was probably expecting to see Raphael galloping out of the woods at any moment, in an effort to save her.
Then, she realized that the villain probably thought that Raphael was madly in love with her, that he would do anything to save her, and the villain was counting on this love to be the Laird’s undoing.
She burst out into a chuckle. It was so unexpected, so utterly ridiculous, and even insane at a moment like this.
But it worked. This was the first time that her captor actually acknowledged her.
He turned to face her, his eyes scrutinizing and dark.
He was obviously waiting for her to explain herself, and the more he stared at her, the more courageous she was getting.
“You know, this plan of yours… it won’t work,” she told him, shaking her head almost sympathetically at him. Her voice was trembling, her fear was eating her up alive, but she was resolute. “You think that Laird MacCurtney will come looking for me, to save me. But you’re wrong.”
The man standing opposite her raised an eyebrow. He didn’t say anything. He was merely listening, but that was an improvement from a moment ago when she had been nothing to him but bait. Now, he was acknowledging her as a real person, and that might prove to be her salvation.
“I don’t mean anything to Raphael,” she huffed.
The moment she said those words, the villain’s face contorted with anger, as her words obviously struck a nerve. He clenched his fists, his voice laced with fury. “Shut up!” he hissed, his eyes ablaze with frustration.
The man continued to walk around her nervously, constantly gazing into the woods. The truth was that Keira had no idea if anyone even knew of her disappearance. The last time she had spoken to someone was to tell Joan that she would be taking a moment of respite in her chamber.
Knowing Joan, she would not come looking for her after some time had passed, exactly because of this reason. And Raphael… she could not expect anything of him. Not after the conversation they had had, after their agreement that they would be bound by nothing more than this marriage of convenience.
The thought almost made her cry, but she bit her lip and managed to turn the mental pain into a physical sensation.
This was more bearable. A scrape on the skin would heal far more easily and quickly than a broken heart ever would.
For that was the life she had now chosen for herself—a life of a broken heart, where the man she loved would never see her as anything other than a friend and a companion.
Once again, she almost laughed loudly at the absurdity of the situation she had found herself in. Here was a man who, just like her, relied on Raphael’s love for his future wife. It was too preposterous to even consider.
She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, deciding to accept her fate, whatever it might be.
As Raphael and his two friends rode through the moonlit night in pursuit of Keira, the tension in the air was palpable. Every passing moment heightened his anxiety, and the desperate need to find her consumed his thoughts.
In the midst of their galloping urgency, Raphael’s keen eyes caught sight of a crimson fragment of cloth hanging from a low-hanging branch. The piece of fabric swayed gently in the night breeze, catching the moonlight, and his heart clenched as he recognized it as a torn piece of Keira’s gown.
He stopped his horse and dismounted it instantly. He grabbed the piece of cloth and gripped it between his fingers. That could mean only one thing. They were heading in the right direction.
“We have to keep going.” He turned to Jasper and Dallas, who were still on their horses, waiting for further instructions. He jumped on his horse swiftly and urged it to keep moving.
The piece of cloth from Keira’s gown served as a grim reminder of the danger she was in, and he knew that they had to hurry. Time was of the essence.
They kept galloping for a while until Raphael saw something in the distance.
He could see a figure moving, although the trees were still blocking his view.
He lifted his hand into the air, signaling his friends to stop.
They dismounted their horses and took cover behind the foliage, their breaths held as they observed the ominous scene.
In the clearing, Keira remained bound to a tree, her eyes reflecting her fear and uncertainty. The sinister figure of Gresham stood nearby.
“That scoundrel!” Raphael hissed through clenched teeth. His heart pounded with desperation as he watched Keira, mere yards away, in the clutches of her captor. But at least she was alive and seemed unharmed.
His instinct was to rush forward, to confront Gresham and free Keira. However, Dallas, ever the voice of reason, pulled him back with a firm grip. “Wait,” he cautioned, his voice hushed. “This might be a trap. There could be more of them hidin’ in the shadows, waitin’ for ye to make a move.”
Raphael’s grip on his sword tightened, and he ground his teeth in frustration, torn between his desire to rescue Keira and the rationality of Dallas’s warning. The stakes were high, and he knew a hasty approach would put them all in even greater danger.
His mind worked harder than ever. His resolve unwavering, he made a swift decision, unwilling to lose more time. He turned to Jasper and Dallas, who remained concealed behind the tree.
“Ye two stay here and keep a watchful eye,” he urged in a hushed tone. “If any more enemies appear, signal to me immediately. We need to ensure our safety before confortin’ Gresham. But we cannae wait any longer. His patience might be runnin’ thin.”
He turned to gaze at the scene before him. He was right. Gresham was pacing to and fro, nervous and apprehensive. He was slowly losing his patience, just like Raphael thought. He might change his mind and harm Keira, unless Raphael acted. Now.
“I’m goin’,” Raphael told them.
Jasper and Dallas nodded in agreement. Raphael was glad that he had not come here alone, for Dallas was right. Gresham was a scoundrel. He had probably devised a plan to kill him, probably had tricks up his sleeve.
But Raphael couldn’t keep away from Keira any longer. He began to stealthily move closer to the clearing, taking slow and deliberate steps as he inched closer to her and her captor.
He stepped out of the woods, revealing himself to both Gresham and Keira. With a resolute shout, he called out, “Let her go!”
His voice pierced the night, echoing through the trees and reaching the ears of the sinister figure looming over Keira like the sword of Damocles, threatening to fall down and mark the demise of the woman who had stolen his heart.